A Fools Errand
by Peppette
Summary: Takes place between CotBP and DMC. My take on what might have caused the Isle de Muerta to be reclaimed by the sea. Contains all of the principle characters, as well as a few OC's. R & R is much appreciated!


Disclaimer: This is my first POTC fanfic, so be merciful! I can't be sure if I am writing Jack properly or not, but I'm giving it my best here. Of course, I do not own Jack, Gibbs, Will, Lizzie, or Norrington. Or any other of the Disney-owned POTC characters that I may end up introducing. But there are to be a few characters that belong to me! R & R would be much appreciated!!

It was storming.

Thunder rumbled blackly against the sky, rain lashed relentlessly against the palm trees that bowed to the demanding winds, and forks of glowing white lightning sliced through the darkened clouds that crowded together and hovered anxiously above the small island of Tortuga.

Rain water pelted the cobbled and dirty streets, little rivulets of water washing down the alleyways and flooding the main thoroughfares. Men skittered like mice, rushing to get in out of the rain and under the nearest conveyance of shelter. The rats and local vermin followed them, prancing in the wet streets to hide in the nearest hole they could find.

Angry waves of the sea battered the shore. Helpless ships bobbed at the docking while crewman clung to their berths below or risked their lives to disembark and make it to the nearest tavern.

The foul and fraudulent weather pushed on, raging with all of the fervor of a hurricane.

A single man seemed to be braving the streets as he splashed through puddles and leapt over the rivers of water that had made their home in the midst of the town.

"It's the judgment of the gods!" He shouted, throwing open the door of the next tavern he came to. "Gather your things and be gone this instant, lest ye fear for your lives!" His looks were frazzled, his eyes wide, and his grizzled hair plastered to his scarred and reddened face. Plodding restlessly to the bar he took the tender by the collar and claimed in a heightened tone of voice, "You must get out while you still can!"

"The god's, lad?" Came a voice from the back of the room. "What would make ya say somethin' like that?"

The frightened old man turned his head, his eyes roving madly. "Because they told me." He replied in a stage whisper. "And they told me to come and warn you."

"Warn who?" The voice asked, curiosity brimming at the edges of the question.

"The captain." He murmured. "The captain of the ship with black sails."

"If the gods be only after this one man, then why are they threatening us all?" Another voice piped up, this time coming from a sailor clutching a half empty plug of rum. "Why not just wait until he sets to the seas and take him then?"

"I don't know." The man replied. "I am only the messenger."

"These gods that ye speak of shan't scare these at the Faithful Bride!" The bar tender spoke for the first time. "Let us just find this one man that they seek and throw him outside, and he can be struck down by the lightning!"

A rumble of agreement spread throughout the room.

"Are ye sure that's what they said, lad?" The voice in the darkened back corner asked. "Because what you thought they said might not have been what you thought they said. And what you thought they said might have been nothin' more than just that...a thought. They might have said somethin' else entirely."

"I know what they tol' me." The old man slurred in response. "Ye'll not sway me on that."

"Say," interjected a new voice, "I thought the ship with black sails was captained by Barbossa. And I thought he was dead."

"Then he has already received his just reward." Replied the old man. "But he's not the one their hunting. They want Jack Sparrow."

"Captain Jack Sparrow?" The corner voice asked pensively.

"Aye. They sent me here to tell ye, Jack." The old man said knowingly.

The man in the corner stood up, giving his voice a shape. "Tell Jack what?"

The old man swiped a lantern off the bar and waded back through the tables and drunken louts passed out on the floor. When he reached the man in the corner, he held up the lantern and spread light across the brooding face of the captain. And then he replied, "Don't ye dare think of running."

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With these heavy words hanging in the air and hovering about his head like a noose, Jack paused before saying, "I wouldn't dream of it." He said this in spite of the fact that his earliest plan had been to send the rest of the men in the Faithful Bride on a witch hunt through Tortuga while he snuck out the back and made a quick get away aboard the Pearl.

The old man seemed calm now that he had delivered his message. "If ye don't let them take ye, Sparrow, it will cost everyone here their lives and then more. Perhaps the entire island."

Jack's mouth twitched in irritation and indignation. He had just done a good deed, saving that Governor's daughter. He reached up and rubbed his neck, still feeling where the rope had rubbed the skin raw. Now he was being asked to save the entire town of Tortuga? "What's it going t' cost me this time?" He asked, seating himself back in his chair and taking in the last drops of his rum.

The man swiped back his stringy hair nervously. "I-I don't know." He claimed, looking around him, his left eye twitching. "Ye have to ask them. Good luck!" He added, suddenly turning about and bolting out of the Faithful Bride.

Jack's eyes swept about the tavern warily. He wrapped his hands protectively around his empty rum mug and chewed on his lower lip, his dark eyes brewing with unspoken thoughts and the plan that was forming behind them. He felt the stares and leers of the other pirates and no-goods in the tavern. He could see their eagerness for him to leave so that they could see exactly what kind of ill fate would befall him as he did.

Rising out of his chair, Jack swept his hat off of the table and placed it on his dreads. Reassuringly patting the hilt of his sword and running a finger over the butt of his pistol, Jack gave a curt nod to a drunkard nodding off at the bar with a slap-happy grin on his face. "Are you goin' t' finish that?" He stopped and waved his fingers eagerly at the bottle of rum that was tilting precariously on the wobbly table.

With a grunt, the drunk fell flat on his face at the table with a single drop of drool stringing out of his mouth. Jack grimaced, snatched the rum from the table, and with a satisfied smile, he sashayed past the others in the tavern and stepped out into the rain. Instantly, the storm seemed to lessen in all of its fury. The thunder rolled away and the lightning struck only tentatively, its bolts smaller and less blinding. The wind abated and the trees rose back to their full height, now only slightly bending to the swift breeze that tugged at them. The rain had softened to a slow, damp drizzle that only succeeded in making one miserable.

Jack blinked and peered out from underneath his hat, attempting to see through all of the fog that had suddenly began to roll in off of the ocean. The white, wispy, ethereal mist swirled and almost seemed to be beckoning him.

Jack walked on, sauntering down the streets, his bottle of run swinging merrily from his hand as he swayed onward towards where he had docked the Pearl. He studies his rings as he went, considering what he would do when he once again took to the sea.

He had ceased to notice that the fog was following him up the coast of Tortuga as he picked his way through a stony beach to the cove where he had parked the Pearl.

It wasn't until a solid wall of murky vapor was before him that he stopped and took notice. His eyes narrowed and his brows creased over his nose. "Fishy."

He took a single step forward until a hand reached out and grasped his shoulder, halting him abruptly. "Jack Sparrow." Came the voice of a man.

"Captain Jack Sparrow." Jack replied indignantly.

"Jack Sparrow." Said the man again, more firmly this time.

"Uh, there's only the captain here, mate. It seems that you've got the wrong one. Good luck with that." Jack made a feeble attempt to break free from the grip of the unseen voice.

"There will be no talking your way out of this, Sparrow." The voice warned. "You've angered us."

"Us?" Jack asked skeptically. "Meaning...?"

"The god's, Jack." Came the cryptic reply in his ear.

Jack curled his lips. "Oh."

"You can't go back for it, Jack. It belongs to us. You can't have it."

Jack pretended ignorance. "I've no idea what you're talkin' about, godly one."

"The Isle de Muerta." The voice hissed, coming out of the fog and taking the shape of a man.

Jack took a startled step back. "Oh. That."

"You can't have it back, Jack. If you try to take it, we'll just have to curse you and your crew, and go through that whole nasty mess all over again. And we really don't want to do that." The glowing person of the god spoke. "But," he added threateningly, "we will if we have to."

"I really hate to disappoint you, mate, but the fact is, me whole little crew is really lookin' forward to it, and I would hate to dispel any pleasure of theirs. It has nothin' whatsoever to do w' me." Jack stressed. He pushed his hands into the fog and began feeling his way out of it.

"If you make the attempt to go after it, Jack, we'll strike you down right now."

Jack stopped just short of banging his noggin on a coconut tree. "Now, c'mon, mate. There must be some way for us to both get what we want, savvy?"

"Now, that you mention it, there is." The god replied, smiling in a way that made Jack uneasy.

"Being?"

"You keep your life, and we keep our treasure."

Jack wrinkled his nose. "I'm not so sure I like that very much."

"We want our treasure, Jack, but someone is threatening that. We want you to stop them."

"There doesn't seem to be much profit in it for me, mate." Jack said peevishly.

"You live, Sparrow." The god replied.

"Yes, but it seems that I'm t' be riskin' me own skin anyway to stop these other thievin' pirates, so what would be the point in me goin' in the first place? Just gettin' t' live afterwards doesn't seem like much." Jack countered.

"Fair enough." The god allowed, inclining his head. "But perhaps there could be something in it for you after all. If you but do as we ask."

"Something like what?" Jack asked eagerly.

"Stop these other pirates from stealing our treasure, and we will repay with all that you desire."

"An interesting proposition." Jack rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Where do I begin?"

"There is a person of interest on this very island who might be very helpful to your quest. Find them."

"A name might be helpful." Jack remarked.

"She resides in the mountains, Sparrow. And she knows whom you are seeking."

Jack shrugged. "You can't do anythin' straight can you?" He muttered.

The god had begun to fade away into the fog when he suddenly reappeared with a warning. "And one more thing, Sparrow!"

Jack turned back, rum bottle poised at his lips. "What's that?"

"Not a word of this to anyone."


End file.
